I also fall off (word)wagons. I will get back on after this.

Everyone gets sick. Everyone dies. In sickness and in health until death is not a promise, it's just an accurate description of love.

straight talk, I said Mary would no longer be MY go-to about THIS and next I'd pray to the devil. and here we are. my father is not the devil, he never was, he is the little boy with Ears' ears in that photo taken just after his mother died. all his life, he hurt himself most, and every day I feel him right there now and I cry 💔. Tbone is not the Devil, but boy could he be one, and he's with me I have no doubt. so.
🙏 the Twatever Prayer: remember in FL when he took care of you when you were drunk, Dad? when you set your trailer on fire with the grill? he flew there and we rented a car just to see you for a night, and so much feeling you had about seeing us that you drank your face off before we even got there, remember? I am invoking the right of hospitality - what went around has come around, Dad. take your angel wings and go wrap him up. all that dark energy that was fear-fury used to hurt you/me, wrap it like black smoke feathers all around him now, summoning the crows to whom you owe an apology (!) anyway, fucking off anything/one that tries to get through with a zombie death booze bite. light blue frosting on fucking fire if needed, "twatever". use your furious angel self for good to help him through and out of this. for me. please and I love you and I'm sorry.  smib